[Verse 1]
 Yo, yo, I know niggas wit honor and will
 That'll still crush the blow up and then pass they mama the bill
 So I'ma always be able to burn my strip
 cause my bags be stuffed and I burn my tips
 And it ain't no tellin what the snub'll do
 So when y'all go and cop vests cop one for your mother too
 And I'm way better than them other dudes
 But I'm stuck wit, what I'm stuck wit, cause I don't suck dick
 Sat with the players and I stood with the coaches
 And I'ma always be in the hood like roaches
 Flow is ferocious, dough is ferocious
 Two guns by each lung with no holsters
 And I control all the fishscale in the city
 And still make your first week sales look pretty
 I come through, all you hear is chip in the muffler
 And you could ask anybody if the Kiss is a hustler
 
 CHORUS:
 Styles: He's a hustler
 Jadakiss: I hustle anywhere, any town, any borough, any strip, uh
 S: He's a gambler
 J: I always hold it down, gettin bankroll in 4, 5, 6 in trips
 S: He's a gangster
 J: I always make the paper and the FBI got me on they list, that's why
 S: He's a Ruff Ryder nigga, Ryde or Die nigga
 J: By the way, did I tell you that my name is Kiss?
 
 [Verse 2]
 And I don't understand how a broke nigga could chill
 When a two liter'll dust you so get you a mil
 Yes I got loose ends, poppin out the sunroof of the blue M
 I'm like Lou Sims
 And I'ma make sure they hit you wit both shotties
 I think this summer's gon be the most bodies
 You never ask a nigga in jail if he chillin
 Just make sure you make all the sales in the building
 Cuz now niggas think it's all right to tell
 And you could put out some garbage and it might could sell
 Alotta niggas be petty and sheist
 But that's only til you treat 'em like a video and edit they life
 This is a threat, when I talk you listen to death
 And if I run out of money then my wrist is a bet
 And the streets said they wanted more Kiss
 Up north niggas pop me in, and do a hundred more dips
 
 CHORUS
 
 [Verse 3]
 Yo, whether it's dope money or rap money, gamble the shit
 Trey pounds of Mauseburgs, handle the shit
 Got too big for the city, cops brought in the feds
 So we moved across the map and brought in the bread
 Niggas chill for a month and a half, no ruckus
 Got the pictures of baggers and all of the gun busters
 And you know how it go, cuz it rarely'll change
 Everybody got a license and a alias name
 We don't smoke when we hustle and none of us talk
 Back to back til we home, we can front in New York
 Cuz some of us is runnin from court
 Smokin weed, mumblin thoughts
 Tryin to stay humble for shorts
 We could do this the mob way and kiss you on both cheeks
 Or do it the hard way and shoot through your gold teeth
 Stand on any block, play cee-lo and craps
 And break niggas for they pack money, then give it back, uh